


It's Cold Outside (I'll Share My Warmth)

by There_lies_my_sanity



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fae, Comfort, Everyone lives, Fae Viktor, Fluff, Happy Ending, He's got some magic knowledge at least, M/M, Makkachin Lives, Sad Victor Nikiforov, Sort of Witch Yuuri, Vicchan Lives, Witch Minako, Witchcraft, Yuuri makes it better, fairy tale-ish
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-08-28 11:31:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16722528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/There_lies_my_sanity/pseuds/There_lies_my_sanity
Summary: The forest is cold.It’s not the most delicate of statements. But it is accurate, and, at the moment, it’s the only thing Yuuri can come up with to describe it. To describe anything, really; the forest is cold, the breeze is cold, the ground and the trees and the air is cold. Yuuri’s fingers are cold, his nose, his toes, hiseverythingiscoldand it’s all he can think about.Until, that is, Yuuri seeshim.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> We pulled out the Christmas decorations today, and I felt like writing something winter-y. It's not the best thing I've ever written, but I hope you can get some enjoyment out of it!

The forest is cold.

It’s not the most delicate of statements, no grand poetry or imagery-inducing song. But it is accurate, and, at the moment, it’s the only thing Yuuri can come up with to describe it. To describe anything, really; the forest is cold, the breeze is cold, the ground and the trees and the air is cold. Yuuri’s fingers are cold, his nose, his toes, his _everything_ is _cold_ and it’s all he can think about.

If he had his way, he’d be at home right now, curled up in front of the fire with Vicchan, a cup of tea, and no numb feet, but _no_. Minako just _had_ to have her rosemary, _no Yuuri_ , it _can’t_ wait until after the storm passes, it’ll be _useless_ by then, doesn't Yuuri know how this phases of the moon thing works? 

So here he was, trekking through the woods in the cold darkness of dusk, the snow coming down even harder and faster than Yuuri’s spirits are plummeting. Because how is he supposed to find anything in the storm, much less a plant that, coated in frost as it will be, looks exactly like every other bush in the forest?

Yuuri huffs in exasperation, watching the fog of his breath spiral up towards the bare branches with detached interest and contemplating the pros and cons of just turning back without his prize. Minako would probably do something horrible, like not let him into her herb stores for a week or tell Mari about that time with the crows, but on the plus side he might be able to save his fingers from frostbite.

Were his fingertips really worth Minako’s scorn? She’d probably reattach them for him, she wasn’t actually heartless, but then again...

Yeah, it was safer just to find the plant.

Yuuri trudged through a snow drift, wiped of his glasses for the umpteenth time, slid them back on his nose--and stopped short.

The clearing in front of him was beautiful. A small pond, more like a very large puddle, frozen solid. A relief from the storm, flurries fluttering down only around the edges of the clearing. If you could call it a clearing, that is, seeing as how the branches above it were woven together into a thick green canopy, dusted with frost. Light barely pierced the natural ceiling, but the ice seemed to have a light all it’s own, bathing the scene in blue.

Or perhaps that was just the glow radiating off the boy.

He was tall and pale, long silver hair whipping about his shoulders as he glided across the pond. He looked as though he was floating, bare feet-- _bare feet_ \--all but friction-less as he spun and leapt. His lips were parted, eyes closed, delicate eyelashes on flawless skin. 

Yuuri wondered, for a second, why he wasn’t shaking with the force of the cold; between his bare feet and the sheer silver-blue fabric wrapped around him in an imitation of a sleeveless robe, no coat, gloves, or shoes to be seen, he should’ve been freezing. But he pushed the thought aside as soon as it came, because _obviously_ the boy wasn’t anything near human.

Too beautiful, for one. Glowing, that was important to note. And his eyes--

Now open, staring right at Yuuri, his _eyes_...

\--were an unearthly blue, bright and gleaming even from across the clearing, staring into Yuuri as if he could read his very soul. Yuuri didn’t doubt that he could.

If Yuuri had any sense at all, he’d be grabbing for the iron dagger tucked in his boot. Minako had insisted he always carry it, had told him, time and time again, that a pretty, valuable young thing like him, knowledgeable of magic and pure of heart, would be snatched up in an instant if he didn’t know how to take care of himself. Yuuri wasn’t convinced, wasn't sure he was pretty or valuable enough to catch the eye of some fae creature, but the danger presented by them was real and he would be stupid not to take precautions.

He was being stupid, now, by just staring at the inhuman boy on the pond, barely a thought in his head.

But Yuuri couldn’t help it. He was beautiful, entrancing, and there was nothing even hinting at malice in his gaze; just curiosity, vague wonder at the human who’d stumbled across his dance.

He stepped closer, and Yuuri, startled out of his trance, stepped back. The boy paused.

“Hello,” he said, voice soft and wispy like the breeze tugging at Yuuri’s unbrushed hair. 

Yuuri had to swallow a few times before he could reply, “hello.”

The boy walked closer, and this time, Yuuri didn’t move, pinned in place by his eyes.

He tilted his head. “What are you doing in my woods?”

“Y-your-” Yuuri took a deep breath. “Your woods? I, I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Well,” the fae interrupted, “not always. It’s my ice, though, and my clearing. I claimed it.” He looked rather proud of that fact.

“Ah.” Yuuri nodded, searching for words that could get him out of this alive and in full possession of himself. “Alright, then. I, uh, I’m sorry for intruding. I’ll just be on my way, then, yes?”

“Wait!” the boy sprang forward before Yuuri could even move, a sort of desperation making itself clear on his face. “Wait, don’t go!” He wrapped long, nimble fingers around Yuuri’s wrist and caught him with a grip far too strong for someone with such a willowy frame.

Yuuri inhaled, startled, eyes wide. There were barely inches between them, Yuuri should be terrified, and yet…

Despite the panic in the fae boy’s eyes, there was something serene about his presence. Yuuri’s nerves, always on edge, were inexplicably soothed, as if he’d just taken a big sip of one of Minako’s calming draughts or buried his face in Vicchan’s warm fur. The hand on his wrist was cold, even through Yuuri’s many layers, but it wasn’t a hostile cold like the biting wind or the ceaseless snow. It was grounding, solid, and Yuuri found himself with little want to pull away.

“Are you looking for something?” the fae asked, and Yuuri could see him forcing himself to relax.

“Um…” should Yuuri tell him? He didn’t seem malicious, and maybe he’d know where to find rosemary, but even if he did...fae rarely gave anything without expecting something in return. They played with words and promised with implications. One misstep could lead to Yuuri’s doom. But at this point, Yuuri was planning to go home without the herb, so surely it couldn’t hurt? It may get him to let go of Yuuri’s wrist, at least.

“I’m looking for rosemary,” Yuuri said tentatively.

The boy’s face lit up. “I have rosemary!” He looked down, suddenly sheepish. “Will you stay if I give it to you?”

“No,” Yuuri replied bluntly, startled enough that anything more delicate escaped him.

“Oh,” he sighed, eyes fluttering closed in something that looked all too much like pain. “Okay.”

He released Yuuri and walked back across the clearing, leaving no footprints in the snow, where he knelt before a frost-coated plant. When he brushed the white from the leaves, Yuuri found, to his surprise, that it was rosemary.

The boy picked a few of the stalks, then made his way back to a stunned-motionless Yuuri, holding them out like an offering. “Here.”

“But,” Yuuri protested, looking wildly from the herb, to the boy’s face, then back to the herb, “I said I’m not staying.”

“I know,” he mumbled sadly, head dipping in his desolation. He looked back up and blinked a few times at Yuuri determinedly. “But you can have it anyway. It’s what you were looking for, yes?”

“I--yes,” Yuuri stuttered, “but don’t you want something in return?”

_Stupid_ , he berated himself, _stupid, stupid, he didn’t say anything about a cost, and now you’ve put the idea in his head-_

But the fae only looked amused. “Yes, but you already said you wouldn’t stay. I’m hardly going to force you.”

“Oh,” Yuuri said dumbly. He slowly reached out, allowing the boy to put the rosemary in his hands.

With one more sad smile, the fae went back to the pond, movements dripping grace and dejection in equal measure. It tugged at Yuuri’s heart, the expression on his face and in his movements as he resumed his dance, and whether it was the fae’s draw or his own bleeding heart Yuuri didn’t know but for some reason he called out, “I’ll come back!”

The fae stopped in his tracks, turning to Yuuri with such hope on his face that Yuuri couldn’t take it back if he’d wanted to. “You will?”

“Yes,” Yuuri decided. “Yes, tomorrow, if the storm lets up, I’ll come back.”

The fae’s expression brightened, and it seemed as though he was glowing at least four times brighter than he had been. He jumped into the air, spinning, as sweet laughter poured from his heart-shaped grin. “You’ll come back!”

Then he was rushing once more to Yuuri’s side, taking Yuuri’s empty hand in both of his, and saying, “I’m Viktor.”

Yuuri blinked, startled by the fast movement and the fae’s beautiful laughter both. “You’re--what?”

“My name,” the fae said gleefully, “it’s Viktor.”

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed. Names were precious things, according to Minako, and for the fae, _Viktor_ , to just…”I’m Yuuri,” he gave in return.

Viktor laughed again, the sound like wind through the trees, like a million silver bells, like the first birds of spring and the dripping of icicles and the dancing of snowflakes. “Hello, Yuuri! Goodbye, Yuuri! I will see you tomorrow, Yuuri!”

With that, he turned on his heel and lept onto the ice, as though the pure glee in his delicate frame couldn’t be expressed or contained but through movement. He hummed under his breath something that sounded suspiciously like, “Yuuri, Yuuri, _Yuuuuuriii,_ ” and Yuuri couldn’t help himself except to giggle. Viktor’s joy was contagious, it seemed.

By the time Yuuri was home, the storm had all but passed regardless of Minako’s prediction that it would last for days longer. Despite her warnings, though, and despite Yuuri’s own suspicion, he was looking forward to seeing Viktor again tomorrow.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoooo! I did a thing!
> 
> I didn't expect to write another chapter so fast, but here we are! I'm pretty sure it's even more trashy than the last one, but I hope someone can get some enjoyment out of it!

It’s a small miracle that Yuuri escapes the house before Minako catches him. 

She’d stayed the night there--not an unusual occurrence, with how much she drinks on a daily basis--and she’d woken up early, as always, with no hangover, also as always. 

Yuuri thinks it might be some sort of ingrained magic of hers, both the ability to be aware, albeit grumpy, at dawn and her avoidance of hangovers even after drinking from noon to midnight. He won’t ever tell her that, though; Minako is a firm believer in only using magic from outside sources. Channeling it through yourself, she says, is both difficult and dangerous, and not nearly worth the effort.

It always sounds like she’s speaking from experience when she says that. It’s one of many things Yuuri has decided not to ask about.

He ducks out the door, closing it very, very slowly behind him. The air tastes like snow and dawn and Yuuri takes a moment to breath it in, nice and deep, before heading towards the forest.

He’s not usually up this early unless he hadn’t ever gone to bed in the first place, but today is an exception. Today, he sees Viktor, and he has to set out at dawn for three reasons: One, the longer he waits, the more anxious he will get. Two, he’d told Viktor that he would return today, and it’s altogether possible that Viktor took that to mean at daybreak and that, if Yuuri does not show up at least near daybreak, he will rain destruction down on Yuuri’s poor night owl head. Three, Minako will certainly know that something’s up, and she has long perfected the art of getting him to spill his deepest, darkest secrets. If he tells her that he’s going to meet a fae boy in the woods, that he gave a fae boy his _name,_ she will rip out his heart and use it in one of the creepy midnight rituals she thinks he doesn't know about.

Yuuri would like to keep his heart, thank you very much, and he’d rather not be on the wrong end of a fae’s wrath, so he forced himself out of bed well before any sane person would even consider rising and is on his way to certain doom.

He’s not sure how this meeting is going to go. He’s not sure why Viktor wanted him to return in the first place. He’s not sure this is a good idea at all.

But he said he would, and to fae, words are law, so go he must.

The woods are every bit as cold as he remembers, but for some reason, it’s less storm-cold and more...Viktor-cold. That soothing, grounding sort of cold that seeps into your limbs, a constant companion, a welcome burden that keeps you from floating away. It helps Yuuri to wake up, and that, at least, he is thankful for; it would be no good to face fae with a half-asleep mind. 

It’s only after Yuuri has been walking for a good fifteen minutes that he realizes he has no idea where Viktor’s clearing is.

Last night, in the midst of storm, he’d mostly been stumbling around blind hoping to fall on top of the herb he was looking for. He’d known which direction home was--he always does--but he didn’t know how far away he was, or in what direction he was going. Everything looked the same, trees and underbrush and more trees, all of it bathed in white and blurred by the water droplets on his glasses.

Now, in the light of day, everything is still white, and still blurred, but it’s easier to keep his glasses clean and everything’s a bit more visible in the weak winter sunlight. That doesn't help him much. He has no idea how he found the clearing in the first place.

So he does the only thing he can think of to do and calls out, loudly, “Viktor!”

The only answer is the rustle of the leaves in a breeze that, while still piercing, is much more gentle than it was during the storm.

He walks a bit and yells again, “Viktor!”

The breeze picks up. It steals the breath from Yuuri’s lungs, tousles his hair, tugs at his coat, and then it rushes past him all in one go and calls him to turn, to look-

At Viktor, standing there not five feet away, even more breathtaking than before.

He doesn't have the advantage of the mystical clearing and the ethereal calm of the storm, but he more than makes up for it. Unlike last night, when his long, silver hair had flowed freely about his shoulders, it’s half done up in twenty or so tiny little braids furnished with bits of crystal and ice. There’s a sort of crown draped low over his forehead, strands of the most delicate gold with charms of deep sapphire, matching the jewel-studded chains dripping from his graceful neck. His robes are the same as yesterday--sheer blue-silver fabric of mysterious origins--but now, with the lack of shock and panic clouding Yuuri’s mind, he can truly appreciate the artful drape of them over his shoulders, showing off his collarbone and little teases of his legs.

He’s still barefoot, and for some reason, that brings a smile to Yuuri’s face. “Hello, Viktor,” he greets softly.

Viktor’s looking at him like he’s the one who’s shocked this time. “Hello, Yuuri,” he breaths eventually, and a brilliant grin blooms on his face, bright and glowing. “You came back!”

“I did,” agrees Yuuri.

With no warning whatsoever, Viktor launches himself at Yuuri. Before Yuuri can dodge, before he can even react, Viktor’s arms are around him in an unwavering grasp, a immobilizing bond, a--

A hug.

Viktor is hugging him?

Tentatively, slowly, cautiously, Yuuri hugs him back.  


Viktor sighs, then, low and content, and pulls back as if he’d rather not. “I’m glad you came back, Yuuri,” he says happily. His grin has dimmed from blinding to inexplicably warm, and Yuuri can’t help but notice that the cold of his skin hadn’t bit through Yuuri’s clothes like it did before.  


“Of course I came back. I said I would, didn’t I?”  


“Yes, but…” Viktor dips his head, and the glow about him dims. “People usually don’t.”  


Yuuri tilts his head, confused. Viktor has asked people to come back before? And people dared defy a fae’s demand?  


Well, most people were probably not stupid enough to offer. Yuuri himself still isn’t sure this isn’t a huge mistake, after all.  


Looking at Viktor’s expression, though, downtrodden and wistful as he presumably thinks on those who never returned to keep him company, Yuuri can’t quite bring himself to regret coming.  


“Well, I told you I would return, so I did. I’m here,” Yuuri says determinedly, trying to convince himself as much as Viktor that this is exactly where he wants to be.  


“So you are.” Viktor’s grinning again, his glow returned, and Yuuri smiles back helplessly.  


There’s silence, for a moment, thick and awkward as they both search for something more to say.  


“What now?” Viktor asks eventually, bounding on the balls of his feet. He looks at his feet, at the forest around them, at the random snowflake tumbling towards the ground, anywhere but Yuuri.  


Yuuri almost wishes he could do the same, but his eyes are stuck fast on the beauty that is Viktor. “I don’t know,” he answers honestly. With Viktor’s attention on their surroundings, Yuuri feels oddly...bereft. The warmth in Viktor’s gaze is no longer on him, and the forest suddenly feels much colder.  


Yuuri shivers, wrapping his arms around himself. “You’re the one who wanted me to come back,” he accuses, not upset at Viktor’s lack of a plan but certain that the blame doesn't lie with him, either, unlike most of the awkward social situations he finds himself in.  


“Yes, well…” Viktor...blushes? Is that a blush? “I don’t, well, I rarely have company. There’s not many people to talk to around here, and no one…” He looks back to Yuuri, eyes startlingly vulnerable. “I think you’re the first one who’s actually come back. I’m not quite sure what to do now. I’ve never had to be a host before.”  


His eyes widen, as if facing a grand realization, and in the blink of an eye he’s bright and bouncing once more. “I’m a host, Yuuri! I have company! That’s new!” He beams at Yuuri. “I love new things!”  


Snow tumbles from the sky with new fervour, as if it’s as drawn to Viktor’s smile as Yuuri is. It’s not beyond the realm of possibility, actually; fae are both capable of many strange things and tied strongly to nature. That the snow is reacting to Viktor’s moods is positively normal compared to some of the things that happen in Minako’s wild, fae-related stories.  


Her non-fae-related stories too, Yuuri thinks with amusement, but that’s beside the point.  


Yuuri tucks his hands under his arms, and the movement draws Viktor’s eyes. “Oh,” he breathes, horrified. “I’m already being a bad host, aren’t I? You’re cold!”  


He looks so miserable that Yuuri has to smile at him comfortingly and say, “That’s alright, Viktor, It’s hardly your fault.”  


“But I should have thought of that!” Viktor wails. “Humans are so fragile, I should have known you’d be cold! Even all bundled up…” He looks at Yuuri helplessly for a second, then jumps at him.  


This time, Yuuri isn’t even startled, just pats Viktor’s back consolingly as the fae attempts to break his ribs in a breath-stealing hug.  


It does help a little, though. Viktor isn’t warm, exactly, but he’s not nearly as cold as the snow around them.  


Viktor holds him for several long minutes before drawing back, calmer now. “Come on, Yuuri. It will be warmer at my place.”  


Yuuri allows himself to be tugged along, though he stumbles considerably more often than Viktor, who acts as though the bumpy, icey ground is as easy to walk on as a flat, well-trodden dirt road.  


Viktor’s clearing is every bit as wondrous as it was last night. The ceiling of branches lets only a few stray beams of sunlight through, the rest of the light provided by the luminescent ice. Icicles drip from the surrounding trees, the soft pitter-patter of water droplets on snow the only sound in the winter air. The whole place felt like something out of a fairy tail, some bubble of space apart from reality. It tasted like dawn and looked like dusk, an eternal twilight of serenity.  


Viktor plops down on the ground, more grace in that single, simple movement than Yuuri has portrayed in his entire life. He beams at Yuuri, patting the ground beside him, so Yuuri joins him with only a moment of hesitation.  


“Are you still cold, Yuuri?”  


Yuuri shifts in place, tucking his fingers under his thighs. “Only a little,” he lies. He’s not built for winter weather.  


Viktor hums, considering, then loops an arm around Yuuri’s shoulders to tug him close. “You _look_ cold,” he accuses.  


“Well…” Yuuri leans more of his weight on the fae, letting Viktor draw him into a half-embrace. “Maybe a bit more than a little. But there’s not much you can do about it.”  


Viktor made an unsatisfied noise. “I’m not very warm, I know, but...oh!” he leapt up, knocking a caught-unawares Yuuri to the ground. Giving him a quick, sheepish “sorry,” proceeded to sprint out of the clearing, leaving Yuuri to stare after him in a state of mild shock.  


Yuuri didn’t have to wait long. Actually, he only had just enough time to push himself to his feet before Viktor returned, and by then it was a moot point as he was knocked right back to the ground by a large blur of fur.  


“Sorry! Makkachin, heel!” Viktor called out, his voice muffled to Yuuri’s ears by the slobbering, fluffy mount of excited canine on top of Yuuri.  


Obediently, the dog climbed off of Yuuri and made its way to Viktor’s side. Sitting up and fixing his askew glasses, Yuuri happened to notice that Makkachin was not, in fact, a dog, but a large, happily panting wolf.  


“Sorry about that,” Viktor apologized, dropping to his knees to ruffle the fur around Makkachin’s neck. “She can get a little over-excited sometimes.”  


“Over-excited,” Yuuri echoed weakly.  


Viktor nodded, cheeks a little pinker than they normally were. “She’s usually well behaved, I swear! And she’s very warm.” Seeing Yuuri’s wary glance at the wolf and, possibly, misinterpreting it, he added, “You can pet her if you’d like.”  


Well, Yuuri reasoned, all dogs were dogs. With that decided, he shuffled his way over to Makkachin, sat down on the ground, and reached out a hand to let her smell.  


The wolf licked him, then pushed her nose into his hand, looking up at him with big, shining eyes full of excitement and adoration. Yuuri ran a hand through her fur, gave her a scratch behind the ear, and abruptly fell in love.  


“Who’s a good girl?” he cooed, practically hugging her in an effort to give her as many scratches as he could. “Who’s the bestest girl in the whole forest?”  


Above him, Viktor giggled delightedly. Yuuri glanced up to find the fae looking at them fondly, so much warmth in his eyes that Yuuri had to tear his own gaze away.  


Not that he minded having to give Makkachin even more attention. She deserved it.  


And Viktor was right--she was very warm. Yuuri didn’t even notice that he’d stopped shivering until he considered taking off his gloves for better petting ability, having warmed up considerably.  


“I’m glad you like her,” Viktor said, pressing his shoulder against Yuuri’s and joining him in his pursuit to give Makkachin as much love as possible.  


“How could I not?”  


Viktor giggled again. “I know, right? She’s such a good girl.”  


“The best,” Yuuri agreed.  


They played with the wolf until the sun was high in the sky, not that Yuuri realized how late in the day it was until his stomach made a loud, unhappy, blush-inducing sound.  


“Are you hungry?” Viktor asked upon hearing it, eyes sparkling with amusement.  


“I…” He was, but he knew the rules of the fae as well as anyone. You don’t take food from someone who was not of this realm, or the consequences would be dire. But would Viktor see that as an insult? The day had gone well so far, Viktor showing no signs of malicious intent, but none of that would matter if Yuuri didn’t make it home safe.  


“Yuuri?” Noticing the drop in mood, Viktor looked at him curiously. “What is it?”  


“I should probably head home,” Yuuri said, feeling guilt churn in his chest at the realization of how much of the day he’d wasted playing with a fae and his wolf in the woods. “My family will be wondering where I am.”  


“Oh,” and suddenly, the glow around Viktor dimed to the point of non-existence. The smile that had lingered on his face since early this morning was gone, replaced with an expression of such despair Yuuri felt the need to hug him until it went away. “You have to leave already?”  


Yuuri bit his lip, considering his options. It was a bad idea, a horrible idea, and yet...he’d had fun today. Hanging out with Viktor and Makkachin had been more enjoyable than he’d dared to hope, and something in him couldn’t bare the thought of never returning.  


Still, today had been enough of a risk. Dealing with fae was dangerous under the best of circumstances. He shouldn’t return…  


Just one more day, he decided. One more day couldn’t hurt. He’d keep Viktor company, have some fun himself, and return home having survived not one, not two, but three meetings with a fae unscathed.  


“Yes,” he said, both an answer to Viktor and an expression of determination, “but I can come again tomorrow, if that’s alright.”  


Viktor’s eyes went wide, the vibrant blue gleaming with hope and excitement. “You can? You _will?_ ”  


Yuuri gave him a shy smile.  


Viktor beamed, wide and heart-shaped, and threw himself into Yuuri’s arms. “Yuuu _uuuuu_ ri!” he cried, nuzzling his nose between the folds of Yuuri’s many layers until he could tuck it against his bare neck.  


“Viiiiiiktor,” Yuuri called back with a laugh, pressing his face into Viktor’s soft, silver hair and feeling as content as he’d ever been.  


He didn’t know how he was going to explain himself to his parents, or, gods forbid, Minako. He wasn’t sure how he was going to pull off coming back to the forest again tomorrow or escaping Minako’s scrutiny in the meantime. But right now, with Makkachin warm on his back and a happy fae all but purring on his lap...  


Usually, his anxiety was his constant companion. His nerves were always on edge, his mind constantly bombarding him with what-ifs and maybes. Here, though, he was safe from it all--the worry, the dread, and the cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for reading! As always, comments and kudos are super appreciated!

**Author's Note:**

> Fae Viktor is my aesthetic :-D
> 
> I can't say when I'll update this again, but I promise, there is more to come. I hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it! Kudos and comments of all kinds are greatly appreciated and will help inspire me to update faster:-)


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